Draw a Circle, It's The Fanbase!
by To Squee Or Not To Squee
Summary: Behold; a trove of stories requested by you, my fellow Hetalians! Request through PM, no lemon or smut!
1. Introduction

_The stories, behold,_  
_You're about to be told,_  
_Are my pathway, are my key_  
_To immortal fanfic popularity!_

_Request your own, now,_  
_Don't be shy!_  
_I'll write of anything. Now tell me,_  
_Who? What? When? Where? Why? _

Yawning, Emma pondered. Why, six weeks of a summer holiday full of fanfiction writing! What fun! But it had come to her attention that she was not so popular of ; who would read her glorious fanfictions?  
That, my friends, is why she now sits, gazing at the empty screen of her laptop. Pixels entrance her. Hetalia characters dwell in her mind, being 'all badass and shit'.  
"I'm not usually a big fan of pairings," thought Emma aloud, repeating the song she was listening to on Youtube. "Then again...  
"If I can just put up with writing a few slashfics, accepting all requests given... yes! My popularity will rise dramatically!" Excited, the British girl danced around her room, yelling a series of Hetalia quotes that most probably made her older brother frown at her weirdness, a trait Emma herself valued.  
"Come on, then, my fellow writers!" she proclaimed to an imaginary audience, face lighting up in anticipation. "Send in what you'd like to see written, and I will spill my words onto pages for you! First come, first serve, one-shots only! However, I will do any Hetalia fanfics; whether it be humour or drama, I'm on it!"

[A/N: That's right! Step right up and request! Every RQ will be done in due course; there's nothing I hate more than requesting and being turned down. Even if you've never met me before, request me and I'll do it! As long as it's not lemon or smut, I'm good! No more than one RQ per person, I'm afraid; it's very hard to keep up with more than one! ONLY HETALIA PLEASE! PLEASE REQUEST THROUGH PM! Thank you! ^J^

Well? What are you waiting for? Get requesting now!]


	2. Mein Bruder, Heiliges Römisches Reich

_Mein kleine Bruder, Heiliges Römisches Reich _– a request from _Hunter-Re_

**Nations, human names used**

**Rated K**

"Wazzup, _kleine Bruder_?!" Gilbert threw himself to the ground, collapsing next to a small child. This '_kleine Bruder_' of his had untameable, messy blond hair, and blue eyes that scanned each letter of his favourite book. Black dungarees, a white blouse, long socks and basic black laced shoes had, over the years, become his signature clothes, thus it became easy to spot him.  
"Go away," murmured Ludwig, shuffling away from his brother slightly.  
Gilbert smirked, propping himself up onto his elbow and watching his brother for a while, not bothering to wipe the ridiculous look off his face. When he didn't get the reaction he'd hoped for, he just rolled onto his back once more, laying in the shade of the oak tree that Ludwig so loved to read under.  
"So, are you gonna come eat or something?" questioned the Prussian. "I'm not eating until you do, because I don't fancy cooking twice."  
"I'd _like_ to be left _alone_, _danke_," replied Ludwig, taking a golden brown leaf that had just landed on his book and blowing it back into the light autumn breeze.  
Chuckling, Gilbert sat up and ruffled his little brother's hair. "You're so stubborn, lighten up! Look." He threw an arm around the child's shoulder, using his other hand to indicate the golden field, the trees with radiant red, purple and brown leaves, and their quaint little cottage in the distance. "Look, this is my kingdom. It's all mine…" The Prussian placed both hands on Ludwig's shoulder, gazing into the hazy distance. "And now… it's all yours."  
"_Ja_, I'll let you believe that," grumbled Ludwig, turning the page of his book and ruining his brother's dramatic speech in the process.  
"Whatever. Well, I'm going to go make some _wurst_, so if you want to eat tonight you'd better come in before it goes cold," joked Gilbert, pulling himself up and striding back towards the house.  
"Have fun."  
With one last smirk at the sarcastic remark, Gilbert bolted back up the field tirelessly; hell, if he could go through years' worth of wars and survive it, running would be like a walk in the park! … Or, should I say, a _run_ in the park…

"Oh, Ludwig," snickered the Prussian, waltzing into the kitchen in fits of breathless laughter. "You are _awesome, mein Freund_. But…" He took some cold _wurst _out of the fridge; it rested in his palm for a moment, ice cold against his warm skin, but were soon discarded and left on the kitchen table.

"You don't know who you are, do you…?"  
On a shelf just above the oven was a framed picture. It was old, very old, and was more of a portrait than anything. Nonetheless, it portrayed Gilbert, wearing his crusader gear, grinning goofily at the camera, standing next to a serious-looking child with blonde hair hidden by a large black hat. A cloak of the same colour was draped around his shoulders, and a Bible was clutched in his arms.  
"Yeah… him… it must be! You remind me too much of him… remember when I first found you, I called you by _his_ name? Yeah. You've just got to be him, Luddy. You _have_ to be."  
His crimson eyes suddenly felt extremely cold, and his vision became blurred; unexpectedly, a hot sensation trickled down his cheek like leaking paint. Glancing in the ornate, gold-framed mirror, he saw himself, Gilbert, staring right back at him, tears streaking down his face.  
"_Mein Gott_, you're sexy even when you cry, Gil," laughed Gilbert, smiling smugly at himself as he discarded the tears with his wrist. "Now, let's sprinkle some awesomeness onto this _wurst_ and make it the best thing Ludwig's ever eaten! Hey, I smell some awesome beer coming on to bring some awesome tears to my awesome eyes!"  
"How many times must I tell you that your attitude will get you nowhere?" Little Ludwig stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised, arms folded.  
"_Ja, ja,_ you're just like a nagging wife!" mocked Gilbert playfully, taking another piece of _wurst_ and juggling them. "Be grateful it's me making your food, because _nothing_ is more awesome than my food!"

[A/N: Oyus, finally! Anyway, translations;

Heiliges Römisches Reich – Holy Roman Empire

kleine Bruder – little brother

danke – thank you

ja – yes

wurst – a type of German sausage

mein Freund – my friend

mein Gott – my god

Well, that's about it~! Requests, anyone?]


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